


Medicated

by MrsWhozeewhatsis (OxfordCommaLover)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 21:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14839382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommaLover/pseuds/MrsWhozeewhatsis
Summary: Prompts: "I'm trying my best to be polite, here," and the song Medicated by Louden Swain.





	Medicated

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted in my SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge work. Separating it out so this can be included in the Louden Swain collection we just created!

The first time Sam saw her, he was in the dining room, trying to choke down grey meatloaf and runny mashed potatoes. This was early on, before the doctors and nurses gave up on him and started sending his meals to his room. Not that he ate much, since Lucifer kept turning his meals into maggots. Why Lucifer bothered was a better question, considering the food was unattractive enough without the squirming insects.

But that wasn’t the point. Lucifer wasn’t the point. The doctors giving up on him wasn’t the point. She was the point. He had just pushed his tray away, deciding that the blood Lucifer had replaced his water with was easier to ignore than the reality of his plate, when she flipped her tray over and began screaming.

Her eyes blazed, her hair floating around her face, making her look ethereal, in spite of her ranting. “It’s not my fault you don’t want to believe the truth, Ramona! I’m telling you, they look like people, but they’re not! And all we are is food to them…!”

Her rant was interrupted by three orderlies who had tackled her and injected her with something. As she folded into their hold and into unconsciousness, Sam caught a glimpse of a tattoo as her shirt rode up.

It matched the one on his chest perfectly.

Before he could think on her further, Lucifer set off a string of firecrackers on the table by Sam’s hand, making him jump and forget about the girl with the tattoo. Once Lucifer had his attention, Sam swore Lucifer’s smile actually  _pinged_  like in the old toothpaste commercials.

Lucifer’s smile was covered by a megaphone as he said, “Not hungry? They’re a good source of protein, you know.” The megaphone shrieked and clicked as the Devil pulled the trigger over and over.

Sam knocked over his chair trying to calmly walk away from his own, personal Hell.

The next time he saw her, she was in the common room, looking a little glazed over, most likely from whatever meds the doctors had seen fit to dose her up with after her outburst. He remembered what she had ranted about, and wondered if she was actually talking about Leviathan, or if she was ranting about something in her own imagination. He’d seen hunters who went off the deep end. Martin, for one. When you’ve seen enough monsters, sometimes your mind just decides to take a vacation. She was a hell of a lot prettier than Martin ever was, though, and he hoped she could be a bright spot in the middle of the hell that was around him.

She left no indication that she saw him sitting down across the table from her. Her eyes were focused on whatever was outside the window, darting back and forth like she was trying to catalog the motion of every animal, insect, and flower. Sam looked at the checkers set on the table and wondered if she’d respond if he spoke to her. Lucifer sat down in a nearby corner and made lewd observations about her. Sam pressed down on the scar on his hand, and was actually surprised when it worked. He cleared the board in front of him and set it up for a game while he considered what to say to her. In the end, he decided to keep it simple.

“My name’s Sam. What’s yours?”

Her eyes continued their scan of the outdoors, but now he was included in their rounds. The distrust came off of her in waves as she curled into herself further. Sam reached up to his collar and pulled it down just enough to show off his tattoo. The next time her eyes landed on him, they widened just a fraction, resting on his chest for a half a second longer than they had previously before returning to the window. Sam moved one of the checkers on the board in front of him while he waited for her to respond. Eventually, he just started playing a game against himself. He was halfway to winning, and losing, when she finally spoke.

“Mariah.”

Sam looked up and smiled the smile that he usually only brought out for families of victims. “Nice to meet you, Mariah.”

His fingers fiddled with one of the checkers while he considered both the board and the girl. He moved a few more pieces, kinging himself on both sides before the red checkers had a massive run and wiped out all but two of the black checkers.

“So, were you talking vamps, wolves, or Levis at dinner last night?” Sam kept his voice low so no one else would hear, but hopefully loud enough for her.

Her eyes were now spending more and more time on him every time they made their circuit, and he hoped that was a good sign. The black side tried to rally by taking out two red kings, but couldn’t survive with only two checkers left, so red won. Sam cleared the board and set it up again.

“I know vamps. I know wolves. I don’t know what these things are, just that they have a lot of, you know,” she tapped her teeth with a fingernail, “teeth. They look totally normal, then their heads open up and it’s just teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth….”

She descended into fearful muttering, her eyes going back to the window.

Sam started another game, but this time didn’t move to play both sides, giving her the option to play. “They’re called Leviathan. My brother and I have been trying to figure out what they’re doing and stop them.”

Mariah turned her entire body toward him and the table, leaning forward and spitting out her words in little more than an angry, hissed whisper. “You can’t stop them! Nothing works! Not silver, not salt, not iron, not holy water, not spells, not hex bags, not poison, not knives, not bullets, not NOTHING! They’re fucking _invincible_ , and if you think you can stop them, then you’re crazier than everyone else in this joint, even me.”

Sam sat back as her words blew through him, his eyes wide. She glared at him, seeming to stare into his very soul. Just when he thought he couldn’t take another second, without losing his gaze, she pulled a hand up from under the table and moved one of the checkers into play. Just as quickly, she returned to her previous curled-up position, her eyes resuming their watchful trip around the window.

Pushing another game piece into play, Sam watched her more closely than his hand. “They’re not invincible. They’re just incredibly hard to kill and keep dead.” Her eyes landed on him for another moment, then went back to the window, obviously not believing him. “Borax burns them, weakens them. It gives you a chance to cut off their heads. Then, you just have to keep the heads far away from the bodies or they’ll reattach.”

Mariah shook her head just enough that Sam could see it, not believing a word he says. “I’m trying my best to be polite, here, but there’s no fucking way fucking household cleaner is going to take down the worst monster any hunter has ever seen. So, why don’t you go talk with the voices in your head and leave me alone?”

Sam sighed, looking for the words that will convince her he knows what he’s talking about, but Lucifer had other plans.

“Wow, Sam. Even the certifiable think you’re crazy. Good thing you’re here and not out in the world fighting evil, right? I mean, it’s not like Dean needs you or anything, now that Bobby’s dead and Castiel is dead and, well, everyone’s dead, really. But I’m sure Dean’ll be fine on his own, right?”

Sam pressed his thumb into his palm, but Lucifer didn’t budge. Lucifer laughed in his face, then started singing Erasure’s “ _A Little Respect”_  at the top of his lungs until Sam got up and speed-walked back to his room, where he could at least suffer without an audience.

On his way back to his room after a therapy session with the doctor the following day, Sam saw Mariah in the common room with a man, obviously a visitor. He looked somewhat familiar, but Sam couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just his clothes, since he was wearing a typical hunter’s wardrobe of plaid, denim, and Army surplus. Lucifer was pretending to be his best buddy just then, though, regaling Sam with stories from the Cage like they were at a class reunion talking about their senior prom. The hand trick hadn’t worked at all since his talk with Mariah, so he didn’t even try this time, not wanting his abject failure to hold it together to be insanely obvious to yet another hunter. He ducked his head so Mariah’s visitor wouldn’t see his face, and he returned to his room to try and take a nap.

One of the other patients, Marin, helped him out with a candy bar after Lucifer turned his lunch into a cesspool again, but was scared off when Sam started flinching at Lucifer’s use of the megaphone. After she was gone, Sam started to wonder how much more time he had before his body would give out and he’d finally get some peace.

That night, as everyone else slept, Lucifer was trying to play a tuba. Trying was the best description, since he certainly hadn’t managed to find a tune in the three hours he’d been blowing into the thing. Suddenly, Lucifer stopped, and stared out the open door. Within seconds, Sam was dozing off to sleep, only to be woken up by Mariah shaking his shoulders.

“Now’s not the time to be sleeping, Winchester! We’ve got Leviathans to kill, and we certainly aren’t going to do it locked up in this joint!”

Startled out of sleep, yet again, but this time by something real, Sam stared at Mariah with unfocused eyes for a moment until her words seeped into his brain.

“How’d you know my last name? What do you mean we’re leaving?” He allowed Mariah to force him out of bed and towards the door.

“My brother was here and recognized you, and now he’s gonna break us out of here, but you have to  _get a move on, Sam!_ ” She got behind him and started to push him towards the door, but didn’t get far.

Sam worked his way out of her hold and took her arms in his hands, looking at her with sadness in his eyes. “I can’t leave, Mariah. I’m too sick to be out there right now, or I would be.”

She looked into his eyes in amazement. “What the actual fuck, Winchester? You can fix the Apocalypse but you can’t hunt because you have a tummy ache?”

Sam closed his eyes and took a breath. How could he explain what was wrong with him? There weren’t enough hours in the day to explain everything that was wrong with him, but a tummy ache certainly wasn’t the problem.

“She’s got a point, Sam. You should be out there hunting monsters, not chillin’ out in here, doing nothing but taking advantage of the three hots and a cot they provide.” Lucifer rocked back on his heels, his arms crossed in front of him, his mouth twisted into an evil smirk.

Sam turned to Lucifer, even though he knew he shouldn’t, and growled, “Shut up!”

Lucifer cooed and giggled like a teenage fangirl, but Sam didn’t notice it in favor of seeing the look on Mariah’s face. Realization that she had been right about him hallucinating covered her face, and having yet another person see him so weak brought tears to his eyes. Sam rubbed both hands over his face in frustration, feeling his exhaustion through every part of his body.

“Believe me, Mariah, I would love to leave here with you and go hunting with you, but I belong here.”

Mariah’s shoulders slumped, but she spent no more than a second mourning the loss of his companionship. “All right, well, then, I guess I go it alone.”

Sam sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, you’ll have to.” Pulling his eyes back to up to hers, he touched her arm with one hand. “Good luck, though. And if you ever need help, look up my brother and tell him I sent you.”

Mariah nodded. “Will do.” Her eyes scanned the room and the hallway and Sam could tell she was about to make a run for it.

Sam gave in to an urge he didn’t know he had and bent down to kiss her cheek. As he pulled away, she looked at him in wonder. “Bye, Mariah. Be safe.”

She nodded again, her eyes as big as saucers. “I will, but, uh, I kind of need you to do me a favor, first, okay?”

Sam shifted from one foot to the other as his cheeks pinked. Lucifer cooed and ahhed and made kissing noises behind him, but he focused on the woman in front of him. “Sure. What do you need?”

“Well, could you maybe make a distraction for me so I have a chance of getting out past Nurse Ratched?” She twisted her fingers together, knowing that causing a distraction for her would most likely get Sam more heavily medicated than he already was.

Giving her an awkward smile, Sam replied, “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

Two weeks later, long after Cas had taken his place in the hospital and Dean had insisted Sam rest for a few days, Sam tried to track down Mariah. Frank finally found her, back in the very same hospital, put there by her brother. Sam wondered if things would have turned out differently if he’d maybe convinced her to stay, or maybe gone with her. He was pulled from his reverie by his brother.

“That was Annie. She’s got some stuff that belonged to Bobby and we need to pick it up. Gear up, Sammy!”


End file.
